And It's So Easy When You're Evil
by ShinyShiny9
Summary: Meet Tails Doll and Sonic.EXE: the two scariest Sonic characters ever, grand masters of nightmares and general creepiness. Now, if they could just figure out how to act the part. (Rated T for some macabre humor and mild alcohol references.)
1. Chapter 1

**C'n I help the next person in line? Hi there! What can I get you?**

**Quarter-pound of horror, thinly sliced? Awww, sorry, we're fresh out of horror today . . . We're having a special on fluffy humor, though! Can I interest you in a helping of that? **

**Happy Halloween, everybody! ^_^**

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><p>Most people, even the most avid stage-explorers, thought that Mystic Mansion didn't have a basement. Sure, there was that weird well full of ghosts and wiggly plasma-stuff, but no basement.<p>

But they were wrong; it did have a basement. And in that basement, cunningly hidden, was an establishment called BB's—the most happenin' watering hole in all of the supernatural world. All the coolest spooks went there.

This evening, a small, slightly worn stuffed animal sat at the bar, sipping a Newt's-Eye Scotch. It was a battered little sloppy-stitched plushie made to look like Tails, as evidenced by the two floppy namesakes draped over the edge of the barstool. A peculiar wire protruded from between his ears, dangling a little bright-red jewel just above his forehead and letting it bob jauntily whenever he tilted back a swig of his drink.

_Ahh, place hasn't changed a bit,_ Tails Doll thought, looking around fondly. The proprietor, King Boom Boo, was usually out of town on important business, but he still made sure the place was in tip-top shape. All the old familiar things were still here—the sturdy oak tables, the frosted-glass hanging lamps, the cheesy old prints showing picturesque views of Pumpkin Hill's cemetaries—he even recognized the waitress, a little Hyudoro ghost from Sandopolis who darted cheerfully through the shadows from table to table.

Suddenly a shout rang out from across the room.

"TD!"

This was followed by a scramble of sneakers and a thump on the back that would have sent Tails Doll's drink flying, if he hadn't had the sense to put it down the instant he heard that voice. The newcomer, a hedgehog who resembled a significantly bloodier variant of Sonic with Zalgo eyes, began to wring Tails Doll's paw enthusiastically.

"EXE!" Tails Doll laughed in spite of himself. "Good ta see you'se again, pal!"

EXE's grin grew even broader at hearing the familiar nasally Chicago accent.

"Aw, it's been a hound-of-hell's age, you old fox—how've you been? I heard you were made canon creepy just a while ago!"

"Ahh, it's nothin'," scoffed Tails Doll sheepishly, ducking his head with a modest grin. "Just a little gig in the Archie Comics, messin' stuff up here and there. Doesn' 'zackly pay the big dividends, but ya take what you'se can get."

"Seriously, congratulations." EXE clambered up on the adjacent barstool. "The big time couldn't keep you locked out forever, buddy. Four more months and the world's gonna be your oyster, eh?"

Tails Doll waved a paw, jokingly pleading for a halt, but he still couldn't help a bit of a proud smile. The glow of his recent success hadn't quite worn off yet, after all—and he _was_ pretty proud of it.

"So, how's the shakes goin' on your end?" he asked solicitously, as EXE ordered his usual.

"Oh, pretty good." EXE shrugged. "I've been working swing jobs, a little fanart here and there, and the fanfic scene is always pretty good. Freelancing, y'know?"

"Ohh." Tails Doll suddenly took a great interest in his drink, embarrassed. He hadn't known his old friend was still stuck working no-account jobs in the "fanon" department—he would've been more tactful about his own brand-new canon status, if he'd known.

"Well, I'm, uh . . . sorry ta hear that . . . "

"Aw, it's no big deal," EXE smiled. "As far as fanon goes, I'm kind of a hotshot. It pays the rent, gets me enough souls for a decent dinner, heck, I even get paired with Amy now and then. I'm happy."

He was still just as ridiculously smiley and upbeat as he'd always been, Tails Doll thought fondly—never had seen a sap more likely to have a grin plastered on his face, before or since.

"'ey, look pal." He leaned over conspiratorially. "I'll ask around in the higher tiers over at Archie, y'catch my drift? They're havin' a major shakeup there nowadays, threw out half the old cast. I could mebbe sniff out a place for ya . . . y'know, if you don't have b'jections?"

EXE accepted appreciatively, and for a while they sat in companionable silence, sipping their drinks. Tails Doll swirled his scotch, squinted down into the mug dubiously, and fished out a small eyeball. He wrinkled his nose in distaste.

"Wouldja look at that? This place is going to the dogs, I tell ya. Now back when I was startin' off in the business, they didn't sell ya a scotch unless're were at least _three_ eyeballs in there. Cheapskates these days!"

He raised an eyebrow when EXE laughed nostalgically.

"You haven't changed a bit, TD . . . "

"Yeah?" Tails Doll smirked. "'Least I have reason to be grateful for that. What's _your_ excuse?"

EXE rolled his eyes, but made no reply; he was already drifting off into reminiscence.

"Y'know, it's wild. Things haven't really changed that much at all, since then."

"Y'mean except f'r the fact we're not tryin' to scrag each other?"

"Well, yeah, except for that . . . "

* * *

><p><em>Several years earlier:<em>

BB's did indeed look much the same on that crisp fall afternoon. The counters were maybe a little less nicked and stained, the floor less scraped-up by chair feet, but the atmosphere and the crowd were much the same. It was a busy night, and most of the tables were filled with raucous groups of Boos and Pumpkin-Head Ghosts, swapping yarns over mugs of spiced ectoplasm.

EXE was there, looking a good bit younger. Tails Doll was there too, looking a good bit less threadbare. They were sitting on adjacent bar stools with the uncomfortable air of two strangers obliged to sit next to each other because there aren't any other seats—which was, in fact, the case.

Finding the silence awkward, EXE glanced over at the patron on his right. This patron happened to be Black Doom, whose head nearly touched the ceiling as he brooded over a comparatively miniscule tankard of slime. EXE, realizing he was sorely out of his league, flashed this behemoth an awkward grin and hastily turned to the patron on his other side—the little doll who looked like Tails.

"Hi there," he ventured.

"Hi." Tails Doll gave a terse nod. EXE blinked, startled—he had _not_ expected this little stuffed animal to have the raspy twang of a Chicago mob boss from the Roaring 20's.

"Uh—what's your name?"

"Tails Doll," grunted the other. "Try not to die of surprise. What handle d'you go by?"

"Handle? . . . Oh, uh—I'm EXE. Well, technically it's _Sonic_-dot-EXE, but—just call me EXE." He had never liked being reminded that he was a knockoff.

"Yeah. Whatever, kid."

EXE blinked again; Tails Doll didn't look that much older than him—maybe a year or two at most, certainly not old enough to be calling him "kid." For a while the hedgehog stayed silent, fiddling with his drink and trying to come up with a conversation starter.

"So, uh . . . nice place they've got here, huh?"

"Ehh, i's decent," grunted Tails Doll. "I'm just glad they moved it out of Hang Castle. Somebody's bright idea! Ev'ry time some palooka wandered into the castle and started pressin' those switches, bam! Whole place turns upside-down, people fallin' on their heads, drinks goin' all ovur the place. Then the minute you get back on your chair and grab a new drink, bam! Now it flips the other way! It weren't on the level, pal."

EXE considered the concept and stifled a chuckle.

"Sounds wild. So, you've been around for a while then, huh?"

"Long 'nuff to know the ropes," Tails Doll grumbled. "I was an unlockable character in Sonic R; I've been wand'rin' the circuit ever since. What's your angle?"

"Me? Ohh, I'm just a figment," said EXE sheepishly. "I don't really exist yet, not even non-creepy canon. But that's why I'm in town! I heard they've opened auditions for a new canon creepy character in the next game. That's gonna be me!"

Tails Doll's ears pricked up, and his eyes narrowed into a keenly appraising squint.

"You, eh?"

"Yeah! All I have to do is go out there and scare someone good by Friday—five whole days, come on!—and I'm in. I've got tons of ideas, and—"

"You can just forget it, kid," interrupted Tails Doll. "_I'm_ applyin' for that gig, ya reach? You'se all can just give up awready, 'cuz the gig's as good as mine."

"You?" EXE raised an eyebrow. "What makes you so sure?"

"'Cos I'm _canon_," retorted Tails Doll smugly. "People know me already."

"W—well, people know me too! I—" EXE hesitated, unsure if getting the last word was worth admitting his knockoff status.

"—You're a cheap ripoff of Sonic, yeah, I know," scoffed Tails Doll. "That ain't a point in your _favor_, kid."

"Don't call me 'kid'. And look who's talking! _You're_ just a cheap ripoff of Tails!"

"Whyyyy, you—I'm a genu-win Eggman-built invenshun! Hoor you callin' a ripoff?"

"You! And furthermore, _I'm_ the one who actually _looks _scary. _You _are a _child's plaything!"_

"I—you—_I'll have you'se know that_—"

At this point the Hyudoro waiting the tables behind them cleared her throat ostensibly enough to interrupt the impending brawl. When the two turned to look at her, she made no comment, but glanced significantly over towards the bouncer, a looming hulk of a skeleton. For someone made only of bones, he was notoriously tough.

Tails Doll and EXE subsided, but continued to seethe at each other silently. After a minute or two, Tails Doll suddenly scoffed and turned back to his drink.

"Ahhh, it's no point arguin', kid. We'll see who's canon creepy by the end of the week, and _that'll_ just answer the question, eh?"

"Yeah," said EXE, eyes narrowed in challenge. "It will."

Snorting, Tails Doll pulled out a little long-bladed knife, twirled it lightly around one paw, and thwacked it down into the countertop, point-first. He glanced slyly over at EXE, smirking.

"And may the best man win."

A bit of silence. EXE dropped the glare and regarded him blankly.

"Dude . . . what was that all about?"

"What?"

"You just, like, randomly stuck a knife in the table."

"It was for _dramatic effect_, ya mushmelon."

"Rrrrrrrright." EXE flicked his eyes up at the ceiling, ignoring the glower Tails Doll was directing his way. "Right."


	2. Chapter 2

**Well, it's late, but I'm continuing anyway!**

**By the way, do you folks know the song "Looks Like I Got Me a Friend" from _The Pebble and the Penguin_?**

**No? Look it up please, then. Seriously, I won't start the chapter till you do.**

**. . . **

**Okay then! Now we can begin.**

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><p>EXE set out early the next day for Green Hill Zone. He had his plans very carefully laid out: the first step was to get his victim into a creeped-out mood by scattering small dead animals by the path.<p>

This turned out to be harder than he'd foreseen. After almost an hour of chasing after squirrels and having acorns hurled at his head, he decided a different approach was needed. By a stroke of luck he found a taxidermist in the phone book—but to his disappointment, when he broke into the place there were only one or two half-stuffed songbirds, hardly enough to catch anyone's attention.

He had to get a little creative after that, but in the end he satisfied himself that he had set up an appropriately unsettling approach for his victims. Then, after a quick stop by Angel Island, he settled himself at the end of the path and waited.

For a while nobody showed up. Just when he was starting to worry that nobody ever came through Green Hill Zone, somebody did.

As a G.U.N. agent and all-around mercenary, Shadow didn't often have free time; but when he did he fancied a quick skate through Green Hill as much as the next hedgehog. It was usually peaceful, especially when none of Eggman's badniks were wandering around, and the landscape was always pristine and unpolluted.

As such, he was surprised to see what looked like a lot of litter ahead. When he got closer, he found a bizarre collection of objects strewn by the path: a dead bird or two, a multitude of plushies, and a fair number of fur hats and mittens. Several of them appeared to be liberally daubed with cherry jam.

"PETA made it out this far?" he muttered, poking one toe at a battered fur hat. It didn't even look remotely like real fur, which seemed counterintuitive as far as he could figure. Shrugging, he was about to head onwards when he nearly ran into a familiar blue form.

"Faker? Don't tell me you're responsible for this."

EXE turned around dramatically, opening his eyes. He knew the black sclera with red irises were what really set him apart from his good-guy namesake, and he intended to use them for all they were worth. And to be honest about it, Shadow did take a step back and raise his eyebrows uneasily. After a beat, though, he stepped forward again and tilted his head, squinting.

"I think there's something wrong with your contacts."

EXE grinned at him to full evil effect, showing his sharp teeth.

". . . You're even happier than usual. What's eating you now?"

EXE grinned harder.

"Or is this supposed to be a toothpaste commercial? I don't use that stuff."

Seeing that things were going to have to get more intense, EXE raised his hands menacingly and lunged, snarling. Shadow raised one arm slightly as if blocking a spray of water, but otherwise didn't see fit to react any more strongly. As such, EXE merely crashed against him and stuck, clinging to the upraised arm and still grinning maniacally.

Shadow surveyed him for a moment, his head shifted back to avoid brushing noses with the other hedgehog.

"Now you're just being awkward."

That said, he punched the hapless EXE firmly in the nose.

Forgetting his earlier resolve to stay eerily silent, EXE tumbled back with a rather undignified yawp, hands flying to his poor bruised muzzle. Shadow was going to say something, but EXE decided it was high time to call on one of his natural talents: the ability to disappear. A whisk of black smoke, and he was gone.

Shadow stood for a few seconds, regarding the place where the Sonic-like hedgehog had been a second ago.

"What does the Faker even get _up_ to?" he muttered, and turned to head onwards.

Only he nearly ran straight into EXE again.

"Faker, what the—?"

He tried to shove the other hedgehog aside, but EXE disappeared again too quickly for him to catch. Another whisk of black smoke, and EXE appeared _behind_ him, grinning.

"What is all this?" demanded Shadow, turning around, but no matter how much he turned, EXE kept disappearing and reappearing, cackling evilly. The Chaos Spears he flung always struck empty air, and he grew progressively more fed up. EXE started to feel cautiously elated. Now this was going much better! A few more minutes, and he'd have this sucker in a nervous breakdown.

He hadn't reckoned on the Chaos Blast, though. He'd winked out of existence during the first half, so he missed the worst of it, but it still tossed him back pretty hard and left him dazed.

"I warned you," said Shadow darkly, stalking off.

EXE scrambled to his feet, miffed. There was no way he was going to let his target just walk off un-terrified like that! Not on his very first-ever run!

Shadow looked over his shoulder eventually and stopped dead, staring.

"They _told_ me to cut down on the Swiss Rolls before bed . . . " He rubbed his eyes and looked again. "I'm losing it."

EXE did have the power to fly; it was hardly what you'd call graceful-looking (sort of a diagonal Superman-type pose), but it got him places and fast. He might not have quite overtaken Shadow per se, but the startled stop had slowed the Ultimate down enough to be caught.

It was a while later that Omega hove into view.

"Unit Shadow the Hedgehog," he called. "Your presence is requested at the—" The rest of his speech was lost in a flurry of bewildered electronic tones.

"Yes, a little help here?" said Shadow, arms folded sullenly as EXE blinked all around him. "Every time I try to move this idiot gets in my way, and he seems to think he's a strobe light."

"Life-form signatures do not indicate Sonic the Hedgehog, nor any previously documented entity," said Omega, scanning curiously as EXE turned to give him an irritated look. He was having enough trouble with Shadow without a robot crashing the party as well. "Curious; signatures seem vaguely electronic."

"Electronic? . . . Of course!" Shadow snapped his fingers. "I knew those eyes and that flight style seemed familiar! It's the latest Metal Sonic model! Damn, the Doctor's making them more realistic by the month."

"That is irrelevant. If it is Eggman-created, I shall destroy it!" growled Omega, converting one hand to a flamethrower.

"Hold on, hold on," interrupted Shadow. "You know Metal Sonics can be useful; maybe we could win this one over to our side. Shouldn't be a tough job; he seems pretty pathetic combat-wise, as far as Metal Sonics go."

"Hey!" blurted EXE without thinking.

"Oh, so it talks." Shadow raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't even sound electronic, either. The Doctor's outdone himself."

"I am _not_ a Metal Sonic!"

"It even has the usual complex," grunted Shadow, amazed. "Do they _all_ come into the world thinking they're the real Faker?"

"Are you even listening to me?"

"The flicker is interesting, though," continued Shadow, studying EXE appraisingly. "I think the Faker mentioned that one of the earlier Metal Sonic models could move so fast he seemed to flicker in and out of sight. Pity they lost that one in the lava pits, I hear it was one of the superior models."

"We are not instituted for the purpose of collecting Metal Sonics," grumbled Omega sulkily. "They are inferior constructs, and I intend to eliminate them all."

"Inferior or not, they're still valuable allies," argued Shadow.

A debate on the merits of robot-collecting began; EXE stood aside, slack-jawed. How did this even work?

"Look, _people!_" he blurted at last, losing patience. "What is _wrong_ with you?"

That caught their attention.

"How are you so _calm_, anyway?" demanded EXE, stamping. "You're not supposed to be calm! This is a sick twisted mind game!"

"What, this?" Shadow scoffed. "Hardly. A sick twisted mind game is when Rouge and Knuckles play poker."

"Dude. I am freaking _blinking_," scowled EXE, stomping over and jabbing a finger at Shadow's chest for emphasis. "And I have freaking _blood_ coming from my eyes. _You_, according to every manual ever written, are supposed to be _scared_."

Shadow regarded him blankly, half-puzzled, half-annoyed, and maybe a small percentage of amused tossed in there somewhere.

"He does have a complex," observed Omega glumly.

"Arrrrrgh!" Tugging his ears in frustration, EXE took a stride forward, grabbed one arm each from Shadow and Omega, and flickered out of existence again—taking them with him.

They reappeared on Angel Island, specifically Mushroom Hill. EXE had taken a lighter to the place previously, and the air was thick with smoke.

"Now we'll just see!" he grinned. "You'll be a bit less smug once you're—_yagh!_"

This last bit because a sluice of cold water had just caught him in the back of the head. He whirled around, startled, to find that there was actually a lot less fire around than he would have expected, considering how much lighter fluid he'd gone through. A red blur of an echidna was whizzing around with a bucket, tossing water every which way. On one of his tearing circuits, he caught sight of the small party standing off to one side.

"YOU!" he bellowed, thundering towards them. "I'll teach you to set fire to my island—!"

EXE considered, then lunged for Knuckles; maybe this echidna would be easier to scare than the weird hedgehog. Somewhere halfway along his trajectory though, he realized that "this echidna" was heading for him with all the force and fury of the 6:45 express goods, with brake failure. Gulping, he screeched to a halt and reversed directions.

"Well, there goes our Metal Sonic," said Shadow glumly, watching as Knuckles pursued EXE out of sight. Omega poked experimentally at a still-smoldering palm tree.

"I was just starting to appreciate his taste . . . "

* * *

><p>That evening, Tails Doll sauntered into BB's to find EXE hunched over a sheet of paper, scribbling something. A laptop was open on the counter before him, displaying a businesslike website with tips on how to properly fill in an official "scare report." The plushie bit his lip uneasily; if EXE had already scared someone, Tails Doll's plans for tomorrow were going to have to work out much more spectacularly to keep him ahead.<p>

Nonchalantly the plushie clambered up on the barstool next to EXE's and ordered a sandwich; then, settling back, he eyed EXE's paper surreptitiously. EXE looked up though, cast him a glare, and pointedly moved the paper out of his line of view.

"What'd you do, jobbie, startle a lost puppy?" Tails Doll snarked.

"I'm not tellin' you. You'd just steal my ideas," retorted EXE, sticking out his tongue.

"I don't need yer goofy ideas," snapped Tails Doll, and snatched the paper away before EXE could react, leaving a long diagonal trail of ink where the pen still touched the paper.

"Hey!"

Tails Doll scoffed and managed to keep the paper out of its owner's reach long enough to read the gist of it.

"Psh. _That's_ all y'managed? You didn't scare anyone!"

"What do you know? It could be enough!" growled EXE, snatching the form back. "Aw great, now you've ruined it!"

Tails Doll rolled his eyes unrepentantly. However, it gave him a bit of a start when EXE suddenly flickered, collapsed in on himself, and whisked into the USB drive of the nearby laptop. Before he could even properly react, EXE popped back out again in a shower of ones and zeroes, clutching a new sheet of paper. He caught the plushie's somewhat gobsmacked expression and smirked.

"What, you thought they called me EXE because it sounded cool?"

Tails Doll snorted and turned back to his sandwich, doing his best to look unimpressed.

For a while EXE labored away at re-filling the form, scruffing his quills occasionally as he searched for the right words. Presently he looked up, and it was now his turn to be startled.

"What are you _doing?_"

"What does it look like I'm doin'? I'm cuttin' my ear off."

". . . Why."

"It's part of the _plan_," retorted Tails Doll, busily applying his little knife to the seams along the side of his head. "Fella's got to look the part."

"You don't feel that?" asked EXE, fascinated.

"Y'think they called me Tails _Doll_ because it sounded snappy?" retorted Tails Doll, pulling a bit of stuffing out through the new gash just enough to look convincing. "It all sews right back up when the game's over."

EXE was less uptight about showing his interest; he watched with one eyebrow raised as the little Tails-modeled plush studiously roughed himself up. Knowing how his rival had fared today, Tails Doll felt smug enough to offer some patronizing advice.

"Y'see, kid, y'don't go for the _tough_ customers. Y'went tooting the wrong ringer trying to scare that Shadow character; he was scary enough in SA2 and _Shadow the Hedgehog_ that they're still considerin' letting him visit _here_. If he doesn' go all good-guy again for the next game, he'll prob'ly be sent an a'fishal BB's invitation, ya know?"

"What's that got to do with this?"

"Well, he's got 'nuff creds of his own that _you_ don't scare him. Near nuffin' does. If you wanna scare stuff, ya gotta pick the ones who scare _easy_. And ain't nothin' more likely to attract the easy-to-scare type than a little battered stuffed animal lying out in the woods." He smirked. "Don't waste yer time with that scare report."

"Hmph." EXE surveyed the nearly-completed form, chewing the tip of his pen. "Ah, I'm still turning it in. If Shadow's so hard to scare, it's gotta count for more if I startle him even a little, right? Extra credit for trying the harder levels!"

Tails Doll paused his efforts to give him a weary look.

"Are ya always this consarned opt'mistic?"

"I guess?" EXE shrugged. "Why not? Life is fun."

"No it ain't."

"Yeah it is." EXE leaned closer, his eyelids sliding half-closed and his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "The fun is _infinite_."

"Don't go there!" warned Tails Doll, leaning away uneasily. EXE chuckled and went back to his work. Tails Doll eyed him suspiciously for a moment, then shrugged it off and went back to his dinner.

"You'll be singing a diff'rent tune once ya get some _real_ life under your belt, kid."

"Tune? . . . "

Without any kind of warning, EXE tossed aside his pen and cleared his throat. Maybe it was dumb luck, or maybe he had some kind of deal with BB's piano player, because just at that moment the twangly strains of the previous song died away and a lively new progression rang out. Tails Doll looked in that direction, puzzled; when he looked back, EXE was wearing a boater hat.

"What in blazes are ya . . . "

The rest of the question went unasked, because EXE, without preamble, began to sing.

_"When you're, a dark and scary creature,_

_You get to party every night!"_

"What the—"

_"You get to dress up as a teacher_—"

"You're not serious!"

"_And make the schoolkids scream with fright!_"

"Is your real name Mac? 'Cos it'd go with the cheese!"

"_Your peachy life keeps getting peach-er_—

_The future's always looking bright!_

_We're li-vin'_

_High as, a Bloody-Crested Screecher,_

_I'm sayin' life as, a monster's, all right!_"

That verse ended, and the piano started to play a bouncy bridge before the next one. Tails Doll was holding his head.

"What do you think yer _doin'_, ya dimbulb? You've got blasted _singalong lyrics_ floating over yer head!"

"I do?" EXE looked up and found that there was indeed a line of white text hovering above him, the words turning yellow as he spoke them. "Oh, wow. _Awesome!_"

Tails Doll slapped himself none-too-gently in the forehead.

EXE, meanwhile, was launching into the next verse.

"_When you're, a dark and evil be-ing,_

_You get to wander as you please!_

_Nobody asks you who you're see-ing;_

_And_—"

The music suddenly cut off with a ear-shattering KER_SPROING!_, as if every piano key had been struck simultaneously. A multitude of broken wires suddenly spewed from the top of the bar's piano, curling and twirling erratically. As everyone whirled to look in that direction, Tails Doll suddenly emerged from the piano's innards, brandishing his knife.

"Sorry 'bout yer pianner, pal," he shrugged.

The pianist, a snow-white echidna with black patterning and gold wristlets, waved one hand dismissively.

"Think nothing of it. Anything to get out of playing that abysmal tune."

Tails Doll chuckled drily and stalked back to the bar, where he found EXE glaring at him murderously.

"What did you have to go and do that for?! This coulda been a _musical!_"

"Close yer head, kid," grumbled Tails Doll, slinging himself back into his seat. "There ain't gonna be no musical."


	3. Chapter 3

**Ghostkid33: Thanks for the review! I actually haven't seen that movie, but I hope to. Poor EXE; he's just a nice guy in a Mobius full of tough characters. XD**

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><p>The next morning, Tails Doll lolloped out to the woods at the crack of dawn. He settled down at the edge, making sure he was near a path and that his bright-yellow fur would stand out conspicuously against the gorse and weeds. Then he flopped himself back in a helter-skelter position and lay still.<p>

Nobody came along for several hours. Tails Doll lay there and chewed a blade of grass, scratching his chin occasionally—like most stuffed animals, he was incapable of moving while a real-life Mobian was looking at him, so he didn't have to worry about being caught in motion.

Time crept by. A pair of Flickies landed in the gorse nearby and hopped around him, chirping. He watched them blandly with one eye, but took a little more interest when they dove at his head.

"Get back, y'little blighters!" he growled, swatting away the Flicky that was attempting to pull stuffing out through the gash in his head. "Line yer nest with someone else's innards!"

At last the birds, seeing he had a knife, decided to seek nesting material that wouldn't stab them. Then things were peaceful for a while again. And then it started to rain.

"This'd better all be worth it," grumbled Tails Doll miserably, trying to remind himself that a sopping-wet battered plushie was probably even more pitiable than dry battered one. Maybe. Hopefully.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, EXE was spending his day holed up in BB's. He'd found a little booth table far off to one corner, and if he sat very quietly and popped into his laptop whenever the waitress came by, he hoped to avoid being told to buy something or get out.<p>

The lost day irked him. It really did. He was all on pins and needles worrying that Tails Doll was out there scaring the teeth out of someone, and here he sat not scaring a soul, but he felt it was necessary. After yesterday's failure, he thought he should try a different approach—and that required research and practice. Good things came to those who planned ahead.

It was tiresome work, though. After several hours of rattling in and out of his little laptop home, he grew bored and sat back for a break, lazily watching the other customers in the bar.

Business was slow, since it was the middle of the day. A few unemployed Boos sat off to one side, moping and exchanging tales of woe, while the bouncer leaned against the doorframe, snoozing. His eyes didn't shut, since he was a skeleton, but EXE could hear the rattle of snoring bones.

After a while the legendary Merlina sat down at a table nearby. EXE took great interest at this, and for a while he devoted all his efforts to catching the grim sorceress's eye. She seemed unimpressed by the winks he flashed her way, though—and pretty soon the spectral hulk of evil King Arthur sat down next to her and EXE realized his chances were pretty much zilch.

Disappointed, he was about to get back to work—but then he saw something that made his blackened heart leap. Through the door had just come the guy who carried the cash—the guy who held all the strings—the big man in town—as Tails Doll would say, "the butter-and-egg man"—none other than Doctor Eggman.

EXE steadied himself against the table. Doctor Eggman was BB's first and most revered patron; he'd been visiting ever since his early days as Robotnik, scourge of Knothole, and rumor had it that he still sauntered in for a nip of eggnog and brandy when he felt particularly evil. Apparently the rumors were true.

Even more exciting, Eggman was the one who oversaw the hiring of new "canon creepy" characters. As the franchise's first scary character, he was still the head honcho when it came to running evil matters.

A respectful hush seemed to fall across the already-quiet crowd as Eggman strode authoritatively towards a table for two. Everyone tried to look casual and not sneak furtive glances at this giant among beings of evil, but everyone failed spectacularly. Some of the Boos muttered bitterly about how great it would be to go up there and speak to him, get on his good side, but they all assured each other that it would be an entirely hopeless case.

EXE, laboring under no such pessimistic burdens, was gaping unabashedly, reverently. His brain was whirring at doublespeed, and even the processors on his laptop kicked into high gear. This could be his big chance! He could approach Doctor Eggman, introduce himself as a candidate for the new canon position, start a conversation, impress the doctor with his wit and creepiness, and—ohh, it was beyond perfect! He'd be a shoo-in. A grin snuck across his muzzle as he imagined Tails Doll's face when he came back and found EXE had already smooth-talked his way into Eggman's good graces.

He didn't even stop to think about it; he was already standing up, mussing up his quills, and stepping forth. Eggman was bent over a blueprint of some complicated mech, stroking his moustache thoughtfully, and EXE had to clear his throat twice before the evil genius glanced his way.

"Yes?" he grunted.

"Uhh—hello, sir!" began EXE, nervous but cheerful. "Good afternoon!"

"What do you want?" asked the Doctor impatiently, eyeing the short spiky intruder.

"I just thought you might like to . . . chat?" ventured EXE meekly. "I'm one of the candidates for the new canon creepy position, and I—"

"Fill in your scare form and mail it in," growled Eggman, waving in dismissal. "There are instructions online and posted in every decent post office. I can't go explaining the process to every half-wit who fancies he can jump about and shout 'boo!'"

"Oh, I already sent mine in!" assured EXE hastily. "I just thought—"

"I am not disposed to chat," snapped Eggman. "I expect to meet someone here in a few minutes to discuss important business matters, so unless you have something of value to impart? . . . "

EXE opened his mouth to say something, but no words came. He fumbled for a moment, then dropped his gaze to the floor and grabbed one elbow miserably. He felt Eggman's disapproving gaze size him up one final time, then slide off him again; the evil genius had gone back to studying his paperwork, muttering something and drawing sinister-looking lines on a map of Planet Freedom.

"Afternoon, sir," whispered EXE, and scurried away, hoping the _entire_ patronage of the bar wasn't staring at him.

For a while afterwards he just slouched in his booth and felt sorry for himself. Still, he took interest when the guy Doctor Eggman was meeting showed up—and then he quickly dove back into his laptop. The contact was none other than Shadow the Hedgehog.

Shadow was wearing a "visitor's badge," a little fabric insignia with a skull emblazoned on it. It signaled that he was not to be fully trusted nor blabbed in front of, but also that he was here under the permission and good faith of a "regular."

You wouldn't have guessed that he was an outsider, though. He still strode in with his characteristic bravado, swung himself up into the seat opposite Eggman's, and ordered a mug of Vitsh's Brew as if he'd been doing it all his life.

"Have a little difficulty finding the place?" asked Eggman sardonically, looking up. "By the way, you do realize we'll have to wipe your memory before you leave here?"

Shadow's eyelids slid partway closed.

"I've had quite enough memory loss in my lifetime, Doctor, thank you. I just got _over_ my last one."

"The process is quite selective, of course," said Eggman patronizingly. "Only the memories of this place will be removed."

"And a little obedience bugging inserted," muttered Shadow, low enough not to be heard. "Never mind. Let's get down to business, Doctor."

The "business" turned out to be a discussion of the peculiar "Metal Sonic" that Shadow had seen yesterday, and which Eggman was quite sure he had not built himself. There was a lot of theorizing about where the thing could possibly have come from, what was to be done about it, and whether Eggman should build one like that himself. EXE listened through the laptop microphone and held his head; this was just heaping insult upon insult.

Still, he had nothing if not a sense of humor, and gradually his resentment and disappointment fell away to be replaced by rueful amusement. The irony of the situation was just too much—he couldn't have come up with a joke that bizarre if he'd tried. Besides which, he was rather impressed at the practiced efficiency with which the bouncer passed the memory wiper over Shadow's forehead just before he stepped out. Sucker never even saw it coming.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, over on Tails Doll's end, the rain had finally stopped. He was just starting to wring himself out a bit when the pattering of small feet drew rapidly closer.<p>

Tails Doll threw himself back hastily, but it turned out the visitor was only a wandering dog, its paws muddy and slobber dripping from its muzzle. It sniffed at the indignant Tails Doll curiously, then began to chew on his arm.

"Hey! Hey, bozo! Back off!" growled Tails Doll, poking the creature with his knife. The dog gave a startled yelp, but instead of running away, it sank its teeth into Tails Doll's knife arm. _Then_ it ran away.

This situation did not please Tails Doll at all. After a fair bit of cursing and threatening and getting tumbled along the ground, he finally grabbed hold of the dog's collar, hoisted himself bodily up onto the animal's back, snatched at its ears, and roared "Hya!"

And for a while Tails Doll rode the dog valiently across the countryside, his eyes fixed grimly ahead like a knight on a galloping charger.

After a few minutes of this gallant galloping, Tails Doll suddenly felt his limbs go dead and his paws lose their grip. Even as he fell off the dog's back, he realized someone must have seen him. Good, maybe they'd approach to see what this was all about!

Indeed, somebody did approach, and based on the sturdy tromp of boots, it must be a Mobian. A shadow fell over the prone Tails Doll, and a pair of hands picked him up.

"Awww, what a cute little dolly!" cooed a high-pitched female voice. "You look just like Tails! Did the mean ol' dog steal you from some little kid?"

Tails Doll felt himself being turned around, and found himself looking into the smiling face of a pink hedgehog.

"Oh, you're a mess," she sighed. "I'd better fix you up!"

_Yes!_ thought Tails Doll victoriously, and smirked to himself as Amy Rose carried him home.

Upon arriving, Amy seemed to be considering putting her find in the dryer. Luckily, she apparently decided that his rips were too severe to risk it, and instead propped him up next to a space heater. To his frustration, she didn't leave the room once all while he was drying, and he wasn't able to make a move.

After a few hours, when he'd been nicely toasted through, Amy put down the magazine she'd been perusing and picked up her sewing basket.

"Let's get you fixed up a little!" she told the plushie. "I'll put up a 'found' notice about you, and you'll be back with your owner in no time, but you can't go back home looking like _that!_"

Tails Doll swallowed the urge to struggle, not that he could have anyway. He preferred to stitch up his rips _himself_, thankye kindly, not have some amateur twelve-year-old basting him back together! But to his surprise, Amy was really quite skilfull with a needle and thread—she probably did a better job than even he could have.

Under Amy's patient fingers, the leaking stuffing was gently fluffed and tucked back in, the ripped seams were stitched back together, and the tears in the fabric were mended almost as good as new. Tails Doll looked (and admittedly felt) like a new plushie.

The onnnnnne little hitch came when Amy was mending a gash in Tails Doll's side, where a thorn had caught. While fiddling with the seam, her fingers met with the little knife that Tails Doll always stored in his stuffing. She pulled back her hand and regarded the cut on her finger, startled, then dug into the stuffing again more carefully and pulled the knife out. Tails Doll felt his stuffed heart sink; this was bad.

"What in the world?" murmured Amy. "Who would stick a knife into their plushie? That's terrible!"

Shaking her head, she went to bandage her finger and put away the knife away, leaving Tails Doll on an armchair. Tails Doll took this moment of solitude as an opportunity to grab his ears in panic. This was horrific! Not only would the plan utterly fail without a knife, but that particular knife was his very own lucky "chiv," faithful and true through many a grim knife fight. He just couldn't lose it!

He managed to clamber up on the arm of the armchair and see into the kitchen. Amy was putting his lucky chiv away, not in a knife drawer, but in a ceramic jar up on a shelf. What kind of person kept cutlery in a ceramic jar? Tails Doll cursed mentally and extensively, then threw himself back hastily before Amy came back into the room.

A few more minor repairs, and Amy's work was done. She took Tails Doll to the kitchen next, where she endeavored to spot-clean the mud from his fabric. At last, holding the plushie up at arms' length to survey her handiwork, she nodded in satisfaction and set him down on the counter to dry.

Tails Doll was all in agony. Here he sat, helpless, while Amy puttered about and did the dishes, singing to herself. Her back was turned; if he had _just_ had his trusty chiv, he could've easily jumped her. As it was, he couldn't do a thing.

At long last, Amy dried her hands and headed upstairs, presumably to start filling out that 'found' notice. Tails Doll barely waited for the clomp of boots on stairs before springing to his feet. No time to lose! Pattering rapidly along the countertop, he stopped beneath the shelf where the cutlery jar stood. It was rather high up . . . juuuuuust a little too high for him to see, but luckily not too high for him to reach. Standing on the very tips of his footpaws, he reached as high as he could and felt carefully along the surface of the shelf. Wire basket . . . egg timer . . . hmm, a sponge? . . . aha! His paw met smooth glass.

Tucking his tongue in concentration, Tails Doll reached up with the other paw, grabbed the jar, and pulled. It was only a little too late that he realized he couldn't really pull something so large down safely . . . and also that the cutlery jar may not have been the _only_ glass thing on the shelf.

* * *

><p>At BB's that evening, EXE was in a good mood. He'd finished with his research for the day, he felt confident about his plans for tomorrow, and he'd managed to regale a crowd of Pumpkin-Head Ghosts with the story of his adventures as "Metal Sonic." Swigging at a Black Widow (cherry cola with a shot of spider venom), he glanced sidewise at his rival and tried not to grin. Tails Doll, though no longer actively dripping, was still markedly sticky and scented strongly with honey.<p>

"So," said EXE, exaggeratedly solicitous. "How'd it go."

"Lousy," growled Tails Doll, glowering at his own drink. "You tell me, kid: what kind of a crazy person keeps cutlery in a _glass jar_, on the same shelf as a _glass_ container of honey?"

"Crazy person," agreed EXE gravely. "Downright loopy."

"You're tellin' me," muttered Tails Doll. "At _least_ I got my chiv back, but in the end I had to hightail it outta there when the dame wasn' looking. The honey I could handle, but I take b'jections when she tries to put me in the _washing machine!_"

"Mm," mumbled EXE. For the sake of Tails Doll's feelings he tried to hide his grin against the rim of his drink, but in the end he only wound up giving a strangled cousin to a sneeze and spluttering cherry cola everywhere.

"You're pathetic," Tails Doll announced, while EXE rocked back and forth on the barstool laughing. "Get ahold of y'rself!"

EXE waved a hand as if meaning to answer, but couldn't manage anything coherent. For a moment or two Tails Doll considered applying the chiv, but truth be told EXE had a rather contagious laugh. Tails Doll almost caught himself smiling ruefully for a second; then he quickly shook it off, gave an impatient snort, and hopped off the barstool.

"H-hey, wait!" EXE called after him, finally recovering. "C'mon, don't be mad!"

When he got no reply, he sighed and swallowed a final chuckle. He hadn't meant to laugh, but it was hard not to, especially when Tails Doll had been so smug about his own skills yesterday. Poor guy . . . it'd probably take most of tomorrow to clean that honey out of his fabric. Admittedly it was tempting to feel satisfied about that, but EXE didn't want to mess with karma . . . Tomorrow would be his day. He was sure of it.


End file.
